Scotch, Jazz, and Blues
by b-mystique
Summary: A short story picking up after the final scene in 3x12. Jessica and Harvey share drinks and reflect. Jarvey friendship.


**A/N:** It's…something. Based on that final scene in 3x12 and the ten minutes I spent staring at a Jessica and Harvey gif on Tumblr.(Seriously the amount of time I can lose to Tumblr is terrifying.) It's been a while. I'm terribly off. Forgive me.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Suits, Harvey, or any of Jessica's wardrobe and that truly sucks. Unbetaed and freestyled. Therefore I'll apologize now. ;)

~o~

She doesn't know how long they've been sitting there in Harvey's office. She's resting back on the couch, her bare feet are back on the table, and her eyelids are feeling heavy. In a way, she hasn't been this relaxed in months. Her glass dangles loosely between her fingertips and she contemplates pouring another two fingers but she can't quite bring herself to move. She sighs softly and pretends to not see the smirk forming on Harvey's face. A new song begins something a bit more upbeat and she instantly recognizes it.

"He would have liked you," Harvey says quietly, breaking the companionable silence that fell between them God knows how long ago.

"Your father," she affirms. She tilts her head, despite being dizzy off of too much Scotch and Harvey's forever lingering aftershave. Or cologne. She's not even certain what it is, but it's a scent that's all him, and it hasn't changed much in the fifteen years or so that she's know him.

"Yeah," he chuckles quietly as he glances at her. He can't seem to hide his amusement at her current state but his eyes are sad and nostalgic.

She studies him for a bit. He's not nearly as plastered as she is and he doesn't seem nearly as relaxed either. He's still sitting upright and on guard, and it makes her wonder just how long it'll take before they really get back to the way they used to be. But he's here, and he's being protective and concerned in that way that is quintessentially Harvey and it both touches and annoys her, so she'll take it.

"I'm sure I would have liked him too," she says softly, and she can't tell if her voice is all warm from the alcohol or the tidal wave of emotions she's had swirling through her for the past couple of days. "I wish I could have met him."

"Me too," he responds honestly. He holds her gaze for a moment and she can almost feel the reverence he had for his father. He still has for him, and it's enough to make her smile.

"He would be proud of you." She closes her eyes for a second and exhales. She always loved and loathed how open and honest she was when she was slightly inebriated. Quentin used to tell her that the only time he truly knew how she felt instead of speculating and guessing, was when she was drunk. It was the only time everything she thought or more importantly felt, came out of her mouth unfiltered and free. She frowns at what that could possibly say about her as a person, that the only time she's really in tune with her feelings and willing to share them, is when she's had liquid courage. She shrugs it off quickly, too Zen to analyze it further. "And for the record Harvey," she spares him a glance. "I'm proud of you too."

She rolls her head to the side lazily and fights the grin that wants to break through. She loves that so many years later she can still catch him so off guard. It's true, what she said. It's more than the truth; it's a fact, solid and unquestionable. Despite everything they've gone through in the recent months, hell, in the recent years, she's still proud of him. She takes pride in whom and what he's become because of his more admirable characteristics, and because of her grooming him. Of course because of her grooming him. She can't deny herself the credit she deserves for molding him. It's one of the best things she has to show for herself._ He's _one of the best things she has to show for herself. The faux arrogant bastard who is currently so surprised at what she said that all he can do is stare at her. He's speechless, and even though the corner of his mouth is slowly pulling up into that confident grin of his, those eyes are telling her that he's a bit overwhelmed at her confession. He can be humble deep down. She watches as he takes a small sip of his very empty glass just to busy himself. He clears his throat awkwardly as it dawns on him that there is nothing in there, but Harvey being Harvey carries the action through because he refuses to be embarrassed. She shakes her head.

"Thank you, Harvey," she whispers it but she knows that he'll hear anyway.

"Okay, now I definitely know that you're drunk," he says suddenly.

He eases himself backwards until he's every bit as stretched out on the couch as she is. His head falls back not too far from hers and he turns to face her thoroughly entertained and something else that he's trying to hide from her. Her mind is too clouded to try to decipher whatever it is going on in his head at the moment.

"I mean it," she says slowly. "You were….I…"

Her voice trails off as she tries to figure out just what it is she wants to say. She wants to explain why she's so thankful for him. She wants to explain how genuinely surprised she is at how well he took to the named partner position. He's grown and matured in this way that she didn't quite notice before. It seemingly came out of nowhere and it wasn't until he helped her through this case while juggling whatever the hell he got himself into with that kid of his, because surely whatever he was dealing with had to do with Mike Ross, that she seen it. He really stepped up and it astounded her and pleased her. She wants to tell him how grateful she is that he became her voice of reason. Hell, she wants to tell him how freaking insane it is that _**he **_took on the role of "voice of reason" to begin with. They've always had this innate way of balancing one another out professionally, but she's not accustom to being the one needing the support. Not like this, where their professional and personal intertwined so much. Although, that's been the nature of this partnership these days and she's still not sure how she feels about that. She wants to acknowledge how much it means to her now that he was able to get through to her before, even though at the time she was pissed at him for it.

She wants to let him know that she trusts him, and even though they have some ways to go, she's not as hesitant about it. Relinquishing control is difficult for her; Harvey officially being her partner and equal is difficult for her. When she looks at him, she wants to see him as her friend, yes, but the guy who works beneath her. She wants to see the kid she took in so many years ago. She wants to see him as the person who still…needs her. She doesn't really want anyone to encroach on her position, her firm, and this place in life that she worked so hard for, because the threat of losing it all increases exponentially then and that scares the hell out of her. It's selfish, and she knows and doesn't apologize for that. But it's Harvey, and if she has to bend for anyone, than she's glad it's with him. She wants to share that sentiment with him, and describe how he impresses her. Even though they still have many kinks to work out, and they have to find their rhythm he is impressing her.

She wants to expound upon these things, upon these thoughts and feelings and him. She wants to but she's not sure how to put it all in words. Her head is too foggy and her tongue is too heavy and she's just so exhausted. So she stares at him, her piercing brown eyes penetrating his blue ones, and she calls upon that inexplicable connection that they've always had, and she wills him to understand. She wills him to comprehend that all of it is encompassed in that simple 'Thank you'.

His expression is unreadable as they stare at one another intently. Neither of them shies away from the other's scrutiny. After what feels like a lifetime, he does. A tight smile plays on his lips and his eyes soften. His hand falls on her knee and he gives it a brief and gentle squeeze. She finally exhales content with the knowledge that he did in fact understand her. She feels warm and fuzzy as her eyes close and she hums along to the music.

"You used to hold your liquor better Jessica," he teases lightly. And suddenly the heaviness is broken and she's grateful for him once again.

She smiles as her eyes flutter open and she raises her brow. "Oh I can still hold my liquor."

"Sure you can."

"That's some damn fine scotch you have there," she falls back into the couch again and raises her glass at him. A lock of hair falls forward shielding the side of her face from him, and she stifles a yawn.

"Only the best Scotch for my best girl," he quips. He flicks the hair out of her face and throws his hands up defensively before correcting himself. "I mean, woman."

"I bet you say that to all the women," she snorts. "And it's not as great as that ridiculously expensive bottle you got your girlfriend, but it'll suffice," she snorts. "Nice touch with the personalized tumblers."

"I thought so," he responds self-assured. He frowns at his own tumbler and considers getting a set for himself.

"Sure. Donna had to spruce it up a bit for you," she rolls her eyes at him and breaks into a laughing fit that lasted longer when she caught the abashed expression on Harvey's face. "And don't worry," she pauses long enough to bump into him. "I'll get you your own set for your birthday."

He shakes his head and chuckles. She laughs until she can't anymore. A feeling of melancholy washing over her, as the laughing fit stops just as abruptly as it started. She focuses on her breathing, on the process of inhaling and exhaling, whatever it takes to keep herself from crying. She has never cried in front of him, and she never plans too. She can feel the concern emanating from him, and sure enough he reaches out and brushes his fingers against her arm just to get her attention…his piercing dark eyes penetrating hers.

"You okay?"

"I will be," she sighs, and she finds herself forcing a tight smile, if only to set him at ease. The record switches over to something smooth and easy. The hallway lights flick off and she can hear the squeaking coming from the maintenance man's trolley as it rolls down the hall. "I miss him," she says softly as she closes her eyes again.

"I know," he says after a while.

~o~


End file.
